A Passing Grade
by The Petulant Prodigy
Summary: Middle school math teacher Ichigo Kurosaki doesn't tolerate cheating. He holds a parent-teacher conference in which he meets an extremely attractive, single, blue-haired devil dad. AU Two-shot for my love, Racey. HAPPY BIRTHDAY!
1. Part 1: The Conference

**Happy Birthday Racey! This was supposed to be a one-shot, but I didn't want to flake out on sexy time, so I'm making it a two-shot. I think I tried too hard to make a plot, and you know how I get with dialogue…ugh.**  
**Love~Kill**

* * *

**A Passing Grade**

**Part 1: The Conference**

* * *

"Jinta, eyes on your own paper," Ichigo said, whiskey-colored eyes focused on the cocky redhead on the other side of the room.

Jinta looked over at his middle school math teacher, his face bored. Ichigo had his arms folded over his chest, tired of the little snot challenging his authority.

The brat currently had a toothpick in his mouth: he chewed on them every damn day. He was rolling it around now, tipping it back and forth, his eyes half-lidded, like Ichigo was barely keeping him conscious.

Ichigo narrowed his eyes at the little punk, daring him to look over at his neighbor's paper again, a white-haired boy with breathtaking crimson eyes named Di-Roy. Ichigo knew the two were good friends and that Di-Roy didn't speak much (maybe because of the braces?) but Jinta more than made up for it. He was a little spitfire and it was hard to keep him concentrated on anything for more than a few minutes at a time.

They were barely twenty minutes into an exam, and Ichigo didn't tolerate wandering eyes. If Ichigo had made it through middle school, high school, and two college degrees without cheating, then he was damned set on making sure his students accomplished it too. And even though he should fail the little ass hole for even attempting to cheat, a little part of him couldn't do it. Jinta was a pain in the ass, but he was pretty sure Jinta had been trying to make sure Di-Roy wasn't struggling. Di-Roy wasn't stupid, but math was his worst subject, and Jinta, despite his rough exterior and I-don't-give-a-fuck attitude, was extremely smart with numbers.

_Why did I pick middle school? Why? _

Seriously, Ichigo was beginning to think he'd picked the wrong age dynamic. He'd hated middle school himself, so maybe that was part of the reason. He'd wanted to be the teacher that knew how the kids felt, had been in their shoes, but Ichigo had quickly developed a reputation for being a bit of a hard ass. Ichigo loved math, it was the one thing he'd been strong in his entire life, so he tended to go off on rants and cover the board in equations, leaving the kids drooling on their desks as they snored or had the extremely smart, straight-A students orgasming in the front row.

Ichigo took a seat at his desk and tried not to roll his eyes as he heard a few of the girls giggle.

Yeah, and there were the obnoxious fan girls too, the ones that thought their teacher was "super hot" and "so so SMART" with his unique orange hair and being the teacher who sponsored the middle school karate club. Ichigo was a third degree black belt and had jumped at the chance to be a part of the school's extracurricular program, but he was getting tired of the students who joined just to gape and gawk.

Ichigo grinned thinking about it. These little fan girls didn't have a chance in hell with him because 1) they were half his age and 2) he preferred dick, thank you very much.

Ichigo frowned thinking about the boy last year who'd had a big crush on him, following him around like a lovesick puppy and even writing him little haikus and leaving them on his desk during break times:

_I love you teacher_

_You make math interesting_

_Can I suck your dick?_

He'd tried to reason with the boy named Luppi, but instead of bursting into tears the boy had gotten rather dramatic and said that he felt like Ichigo had just ripped his heart from his chest and got up on his tip toes to try and slap Ichigo across the face.

And then he transferred out of the school, never to be heard from again.

Oh well. The kid was thirteen: he was probably "in love" with a new person by now.

Still, students weren't the ONLY people he had to worry about hitting on him. The world history teacher, Ichimaru Gin, seemed to tease him on a daily basis, but Ichigo knew it was because he was just a shameless flirt. Ichigo knew for a fact that his lover was the principal of the adjoining high school, a Mr. Coyote, a sleepy man that was usually found on the couch in the teacher's lounge more than at his desk doing paperwork. How the man managed to keep his job and the schools running so smoothly was a complete and total mystery with how much the man fucking slept.

Ichigo scratched listlessly on a piece of paper as he listened to the clock tick, his fingers itching for something to do. He'd finished the homework assignment grading the night before, and obviously none of the kids were done with their exams yet.

_I have too much free time on my hands_, Ichigo thought. _I need a hobby. _

His best work friend, an obnoxious P.E. teacher named Renji (who also tried to get into his pants at least once a month) had offered to take him out to a few gay bars in the area to get him out in the scene, get him to make more friends, possibly even find himself a boyfriend, but Ichigo was wary. He wasn't really a crowd kind of guy, and clubs completely turned him off. They smelled bad and he wasn't a big drinker and it was SO LOUD how did people freaking manage to communicate? Not only that, the drinks were so expensive: if he wanted to get drunk, he could buy a bottle at Urahara's convenience store and not break the bank.

_I'm boring, _Ichigo sighed, almost nodding off on top of his fist, _I have no good qualities. Maybe I should just let Renji take me to that sushi place he's always talking about..._

Ichigo looked up to see all his students bent over their desks, eyes eager or panicked, pencils scratching and erasers rubbing.

Then he glanced at Jinta. Their desks were partners (three rows of two desks, making five neat little lanes) and Jinta was scribbling something furiously onto Di Roy's paper.

Shit. Ichigo sighed before getting up from his desk and approaching them.

Jinta pulled his pencil away, Di Roy's eyes looking worried. They knew they were caught.

Ichigo picked up both boys' tests, "See me after class."

Jinta's face morphed into one of complete rage. For a second it actually scared Ichigo. Definitely a facial expression he'd adopted from a parent or something.

"Of course, Kurosaki-_sensei_," he sneered, kicking back and putting his muddy converse on top of his desk.

* * *

"Look, cheating is enough to get you _expelled_ at Arrancar Academy," Ichigo sighed, rubbing at the back of his neck with a hand, "This is serious, guys. Why don't you talk to me about it?"

Di-Roy lowered his head, his white bangs hiding his face completely as Jinta sat with his arms crossed.

"It wasn't cheating. Di just fergot one'a the formulas. I wrote it right there," Jinta said, slamming his finger on the corner of the second page.

It was indeed Jinta's chicken scratch, but so were two of the answers that were circled in the middle of the page. Ichigo stared at the written out work of one of the fractional equations: Di Roy had attempted it and hadn't finished it, but Jinta had given him the numerical ending answer.

_Clear as day, they cheated._

"Look, I don't want to take this to the principal, so I'm going to give you each a fresh test and separate you. I'll be contacting your parents for a short conference."

"What?" Jinta said, his voice dripping in acid, "Di Roy didn't do anything! I'm the one who wrote on his test!"

"I know you're angry, Jinta, but I can't walk away from this. You cheated: you may not think it's a big deal, but it is. If I took this to the principal, it could affect the rest of your academic career. It could stop you from being accepted to good high schools: is that what you want?"

Jinta sneered, "Don't care. I don't need school."

"What about Di Roy? You want him to get kicked out because you have an attitude problem?" Ichigo challenged, his own temper flaring, "I don't care if you gave him answers as a charity case or if he begged you for them, you cheated. You messed up. This is the real world, and there's consequences for your actions."

At the end of the rant, there was silence.

"We'll re-take the test. I'll even call my dad myself, but come on, sensei, leave Di Roy's parents outta this."

Jinta actually looked a little apologetic: the snarl was gone, and that, more than anything, clued Ichigo in to how protective Jinta was towards Di Roy.

Yeah, there was definitely some underlying feelings going on in that department.

_Damn, why do I gotta be the hopeless romantic? _

"Fine."

* * *

The end of the school day finally rolled around and Ichigo was anxious to get this conference over with. After re-taking the test, Jinta had pulled out his cell phone and proceeded to call his father. Ichigo had been surprised at how quick the conversation went, with seemingly no screaming or gnashing of teeth. Honestly, did parents even care these days?

Ichigo had never met half his student's parents. Hell, he barely ever interacted with parents at all, unless they e-mailed him about their son's or daughter's progress or something else of that nature, so for the rest of the afternoon, Ichigo found himself actually a little bit intimidated about how he was going to handle the situation with a father that probably didn't give two shits that his kid had cheated on a middle school algebra test.

Ichigo straightened up his desk, just for something to do as he waited for his classroom door to slide open at five p.m., the agreed-upon meeting time. He fixed his collar and tie, wishing he could take it off, but he was supposed to be professional in the school setting: simple black slacks, a light yellow button-down shirt, and a silky red tie. Wasn't much of a fashion statement, but it was more comfortable then the starchy-school-emblem-shirts that most of the other teachers chose to wear.

_Who cares about fashion anyway? I'm a fucking math teacher. _

Time ticked by slowly. Or was this ass hole just going to be late?

He got a cup of coffee. No parent.

Went to the bathroom. Returning to the room, no parent.

He built a rubber band ball from all the rubber bands he'd confiscated from Jinta and a few other students who thought it was hilarious to flick them at the backs of other student's heads and bounced it against the blackboard for a while.

Still no parent.

He was about ready to take out the deck of cards he kept in the bottom drawer to start building a card house when he finally heard the door slide.

He turned to look, and he hoped to _god_ that his face looked impassive because, well, mentally, he was jumping around and screaming like a complete idiot.

Forty-five minutes late and Ichigo should be livid, totally ready to eviscerate this man about his excessive tardiness (and maybe even ask him if it was genetic because Jinta sure as hell never showed up on time and tended to ditch a lot.)

But that all died on the tip of his tongue because, sweet Kami in heaven, the man was fucking _gorgeous_.

Not like "I'm a model" gorgeous, but a "I _could_ be a model, but I'm seemingly unaware of how attractive I actually am" kind of gorgeous. Ichigo really hoped he wasn't drooling on himself as the man walked in, his blue eyes the exact same shade as his hair. He was dressed simply in jeans and a white tee, although their seemed to be oil smudges near the collar and hemline, but that just drew attention to how fit the man had to be beneath the thin cotton material.

Then, the real crusher: colorful, twisting tattoos along the man's forearms, a personal fetish of Ichigo's. If there were two things he looked for in a man, it was confidence and ink. (One reason he had _almost_ given in to Renji's advances).

And lots of it. Ichigo wondered if there was more that he couldn't see.

Not only that, he had on simple thick-framed black glasses that nearly had Ichigo's heart doing somersaults. Ichigo had always been a weirdo: for some reason, glasses turned him on (maybe because he'd always secretly wanted them?).

For a second Ichigo even convinced himself the man wasn't even Jinta's father because 1) he looked far too young to be a father of a thirteen-year-old troublemaker and 2) his hair was quite unmistakably blue.

Then Ichigo sighed internally. _Damn. His wife must have the bloodshed red hair. _

_His wife_. Ichigo kept chanting to himself. _This man has a kid. He's probably got a wife, or two, or three. Christ, he could impregnate the world and be thanked for it. _

"You Kurosaki-sensei?" the blue-haired Adonis said, his voice husky. He ran a hand through his hair, which lifted his tee just enough for Ichigo to catch a glimpse of one of the man's highway lines on the hips.

Ichigo mentally licked his lips. He LOVED those lines.

_The super-highway to downtown fuck town. _

"I in the wrong place?" the man said, sounding a bit agitated.

_Probably cuz you're staring like a slack-jawed idiot, _Ichigo chided himself.

"Oh, yeah – I mean, no, you're in the right place," Ichigo stood up from his desk and approached his student's father (he had to keep reminding himself of that) and extended his hand, "Kurosaki Ichigo. I teach pre-algebra, algebra, and geometry."

"Jaegerjaques Grimmjow," he replied, eyes traveling over Ichigo's body and making him want to shudder, "Nice 'ta finally meet one of the brat's teachers."

Ichigo couldn't help but smile before allowing his hand to drop away and making his way back to his seat, motioning for Grimmjow to take the seat prepared in front of the teacher's desk.

Grimmjow plopped down and made himself comfortable, leaning back and folding his arms over his chest, his eyes settled on Ichigo who had been studying the asymetrical and diabolic layout of Grimmjow's crazy blue hair.

_It's like a mini labyrinth. _

"So, my kid gonna pass this class?"

Ichigo tried not to shudder at the low purr. The man certainly cut straight to the point, no further adieu.

"Uh, well, of-of course. Your son's actually one of my brightest students."

Grimmjow nodded once, seeming to think about it, "Arite. Tha's good."

Again, Ichigo was surprised. Most parents would launch into how amazing their kid was with barely any prompting, but Grimmjow seemed to already have that quiet knowledge. Ichigo was making wild assumptions, but Jinta probably had the brains to be in high school level, possibly even college level courses already; he simply lacked the drive and focus.

"Does he have you to thank for those book smarts?"

_Oh God, Ichigo, way to sound like a creepy old cougar. Why don't you just go the extra mile and shove his face in your surgery-enhanced cleavage while you're at it?_

Grimmjow laughed and Ichigo had to threaten his growing erection out of existence.

"Hell no. Got his good looks and brains from his mama, the crazy bitch."

Ichigo knew it probably wasn't good etiquette to laugh about something like that, but he couldn't help himself, "Yes, that is some extremely bright red hair he's got."

Grimmjow laughed again, "Ya got no idea: toting him around as a baby, people starin' at me, ya'd think I'd stolen him outta his crib or somethin', but no, that brat's mine and he's all I've got now."

Ichigo couldn't help himself, "You're a single father?"

"Yah. Got Charlene pregnant in high school. Jinta was born only a week after my seventeenth birthday. We'd planned on givin' him up for adoption, but – shit, I made the mistake'a holdin' him and that was all she wrote."

He dug in his pocket, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter, "Mind if I smoke?"

_Reply #1: I'm sorry, it's against school policy. _

_Reply #2: This is a children's classroom, dumb ass. _

_Reply #3: You can do whatever you want, whenever you want, as long as I get to watch you do it. _

"Sure."

Grimmjow lit one of his cancer sticks and stared at Ichigo again, "Course Charlene gave me full custody: parents had her on the fast track to law school, but that's what she wanted. Wasn't ready for a kid. Fuck, nobody's EVER ready for a kid. My old man gave me so much shit, but the second Jinta started talkin', he turned into super grampa. Then things got easier. If Jinta's been actin' up, it's 'cuz my pops died about six months ago."

Grimmjow quietly puffed on his cigarette for a minute, and the story was seriously beginning to make Ichigo feel like a complete ass hole.

It certainly explained why Jinta had been so moody lately, perhaps explained why he had missed so much class.

"I thought maybe it was because…well, he seems very close to his classmate, Di Roy…"

Grimmjow let out a bark of laughter, stubbing his cigarette out on the arm of his chair before tossing it in the wastebasket next to Ichigo's desk, "Oh yeah, Di's real close ta' my kid. Caught 'em foolin' around 'bout a month ago in the pool."

Ichigo knew his face was as read as a tomato. Seriously? Thirteen years old and already…!

"Kids will be kids," Grimmjow said, shrugging, "Better they figure it out now then catch hell for it later, ya know?"

"B-but…they couldn't possibly be…having…"

"Sex? Nah, not yet, but they're gettin' there. Jinta turns fourteen in two weeks, so who knows? I started stickin' my dick in willing holes by that age, so I can't really judge. 'Sides, if he's gay, don't gotta worry 'bout bein' a grampa at 31, ya know?"

Ichigo didn't know whether to laugh or cry at Grimmjow's logic. He was certainly an easy-going parent, and Ichigo couldn't help but appreciate that. His own old man was…well, rather unique, if not completely bat-shit insane.

And it was obvious by the way Grimmjow spoke about Jinta that he had a lot of affection for him. Ichigo had no doubt in his mind that Grimmjow would move heaven and earth for his kid, which was all he could ask for.

"So," Grimmjow smirked, revealing teeth that looked too good for a constant smoker, "Did my young-single-dad-sob-story win over your icey teacher heart or are ya expectin' me 'ta bend over backwards 'ta keep him in this school?"

_Smug ass hole. _

Ichigo smiled back, "I allowed them both to retake the test, which I've graded. Of course Jinta passed with flying colors, so I expect he'll be fine to pass this year. Di Roy, on the other hand…well, I might need to tutor him a few times a week, or find him a tutor…"

Grimmjow smirked, "Oh, ya won't have ta worry 'bout that. I'll have Jinta tutor him. Di's over at the house all the time anyway."

Ichigo raised a brow: Jinta was certainly smart enough to take on the task, but it still left Ichigo wary.

"As a teacher, I can't really…well, I mean, he's your son, he can do whatever he wants, but maybe I should look into one of the school's tutors instead…"

"Nah, this way will be far more fun," Grimmjow chuckled, "Don't worry, I'll make 'em sit in the kitchen, watch 'em squirm. Trust me, this is prob'ly the only way 'yer gonna make Jinta feel like he's bein' punished."

Huh. Well, maybe Grimmjow DID believe in some form of discipline for his kid's actions. It was…a bit unorthodox, but still amusing.

"Well then, I'd say everything's smoothed out, then," Ichigo said, standing up and holding out his hand for another handshake (any excuse to touch the blue haired dad, anyway), "It was nice to meet you, Mr. Jaegerjaques."

Grimmjow smiled wide, grabbing Ichigo's hand and leaning over the desk, quite close to Ichigo, "Nah, that was my old man. Call me Grimmjow and I'll call you Ichigo, yeah?"

Ichigo tried not to choke on his own saliva, "S-sure, Grimmjow."

Grimmjow finally released his hand, smiling winningly, "I like how 'ya say it. Damn sexy, teach. I like that."

Ichigo knew he was redder then a strawberry because Grimmjow chuckled.

"Aw, look at'cha. Yer girlfriend must tease ya constantly 'bout that blush."

"I don't have a girlfriend," Ichigo nearly shouted, beyond embarrassed and SO out of his element.

Grimmjow raised an eyebrow, smirking, "Boyfriend, then?"

Ichigo did choke then, "N-no!"

"…but'cha want one, ne?" Grimmjow said, sidling over around the desk and WAY too close to Ichigo for comfort, "Don't see how 'yer single, sensei. I was never any good at math, but'cher makin' me wish I'd paid attention a lil' more. I think 'yer a lil' too sexy for your own good."

Ichigo seriously thought he was going to pass out when Grimmjow dipped his head and stole a kiss from Ichigo's lips. _What the fuck? _

_This breaks all kinds of school regulations. _

_Shut the fuck up!_ Ichigo hissed to himself, not exactly sure who he was talking to anymore.

Ichigo moaned: Grimmjow smelled like oiled leather and cigarettes and tasted suspiciously like butterscotch. How that worked, he wasn't sure. Maybe some kind of mint or toothpaste?

Grimmjow's deep chuckle brought Ichigo back to the plain of existence and Ichigo abashedly realized his hands were gripping the front of Grimmjow's tee.

"Oh, oh my god," Ichigo stuttered, pushing Grimmjow away slightly, "Shit, you're my student's father!"

"No shit, Sherlock," Grimmjow teased, allowing his thumb to tease Ichigo's jaw as he gripped his chin, "but I was under the impression we were both single. We don't work together, and I thought the school business had just ended with that nifty handshake a few minutes ago."

"So…" Grimmjow trailed off, nipping at Ichigo's bottom lip, "We're totally justified right now, yeah?"

Despite how much Ichigo wanted to just rip their clothes off and go at it like monkeys in heat on top of his desk, the voice in the back of his head kept telling him they were in his classroom, which meant they were on school property, which made Ichigo think that if they were anywhere else, he'd already be cumming several times over.

"G-Grimmjow," Ichigo almost begged, pushing the blue-haired devil dad away from his swollen lips with a hand against a scratchy jaw, "This is still your son's academy. This is my JOB, so, you know, can we pump the breaks a second here?"

Grimmjow's leer had Ichigo thinking all kinds of wrong and disturbing things so he tried not to look but he couldn't help himself.

"So, 'yer saying dinner tomorrow night. Eight o'clock. My place. I'll make lasagna. You bring the wine," Grimmjow said before pecking Ichigo quickly on the lips, "Ah, and ya don't gotta worry 'bout Jinta. I'll have him stay the night at Di's."

"W-wait, I never said-"

Grimmjow grabbed a pen from the desk and one of the many colored post-its and scribbled some info down on it while Ichigo struggled for words, his heart hammering out of his chest.

Grimmjow grabbed Ichigo by the tie and pulled him in for one more slow, extremely-satisfying kiss _**(HOLY SHIT! HIS TONGUE IS PIERCED!)**_ before sticking the post-it over Ichigo's breast pocket, "Tha's my address and cell number. Tomorrow. 8 o'clock."

Another delicious smirk and then the man was leaving the class room. His hand on the door, he turned slightly, grinning ear to ear, "I think my kid needs 'ta get in trouble more often."

And then he was gone.

Ichigo practically fell into his chair, just staring blankly at the closed door for a good five minutes.

Then he smiled. He collected his things and it took everything in him not to skip through the hallways as he headed home for a well-deserved shower and some downtime in front of the television.

A part of him, the professional side, was threatening to kick his ass.

But it was true: he didn't work with Grimmjow, and Grimmjow certainly wasn't one of his students, although maybe the argument could be made (if they were found out) that Ichigo would show favoritism to a student, but seriously, Ichigo was beginning to think there really was no harm in having a little…fun with a student's dad.

_Guh, why did the man have to be so incredibly sexy? He doesn't even try. _

Not to mention he was an _amazing_ kisser.

Ichigo should have worried that it was some kind of sick joke. Maybe he was closer to his kid then he thought and they'd thought it would be hilarious to get back at young gay teacher, teach him a lesson.

_Nah. Those kisses were just a little too enthusiastic. _

Grimmjow wanted in his pants. Ichigo wanted in Grimmjow's pants. It was mutual.

Ichigo had never had a one-night stand before, but that was probably what the blue-haired dad was offering. He was young, hot, and single: no way was Ichigo convinced the grinning devil was ready to be tied down and off the market that stretched out before him like an endless buffet.

_And he wants me. For one night, he's after me. _

So Ichigo started smiling again.

And he smiled and smiled and smiled for the rest of the night.

* * *

"Seriously?" Jinta said, his pierced eyebrows all the way to his red hairline as his dad stood on the other side of the kitchen, sipping a cup of chamomile tea.

"Yep," Grimmjow smirked, taking another sip, "Yer old man's got a hot date tomorrow night, so can 'ya have yerself a lil' sleepover at yer boyfriend's house so I don't scar 'ya fer life?"

"Oh my god, 'yer gonna fuck my math teacher?" Jinta practically howled before turning back to the stove where the pancakes he was attempting to make for dinner were about ready to burn, "Dad, seriously, do you have no shame? If you break his heart, he's gonna mark me and Di for death!"

"Hey, first of all, language," Grimmjow said, holding up a finger like he was issuing a decree, "And second, who says I'm gonna break his heart?"

"Oh I dunno, maybe 'cuz 'yer longest relationship lasted, what? A month?" Jinta said with a roll of his eyes, "Seriously, dad, this is a super fucking bad idea."

"Yo, wha'd I just say 'bout language?"

"You cuss all the time!"

"I'm 31, you're 13. Deal with it."

"Oh yeah? Well maybe I'll go _deal with it_ with Di Roy! Ya know, I was _this_ close 'ta fuckin' him in the pool before 'ya caught us last month!" Jinta raged, flipping the chocolate chip pancakes onto two big plates before dousing his own in syrup, "Seriously, dad, it's not fair how you get to run around and fuck like a rabbit but you give me all these rules! I'm almost fourteen!"

Grimmjow watched Jinta slam his knife into one of the pancakes, cutting it furiously to wear Grimmjow was beginning to fear for the plate's life.

Grimmjow sighed and made his way over to his one and only begotten son and ruffled his insane red hair, "I know, it's not fair, so I've been cleanin' up my act. Ya know I haven't been with anyone in a while, yeah? I wanna find somebody ta' settle down with, ya know? Ya deserve a real family, Jin."

All the fight seemed to drain out of Jinta as he sighed as well, chewing on a piece of pancake thoughtfully, "But does it gotta be my _math teacher?_ That's so fuckin' awkward."

Grimmjow slapped the back of Jinta's head softly, "C'mon, man, _language_."

"Arite, arite! Jesus, I'm sorry."

"I know 'yer serious 'bout Di. Just…be smart, yeah?" Grimmjow said, pulling a condom out of his back pocket and placing it next to Jinta's plate of pancakes, "Do I gotta explain how messy it gets between two dudes?"

"Ugh, dad, we are NOT having this conversation right now," Jinta said, his face turning nearly as red as his hair, "WHY do parents think we want them to give us ANY kind of advice?"

Grimmjow howled with laughter before ruffling his kid's hair again, "Cuz, brat, we're usually right."

Grimmjow took his own plate of pancakes and sat across from his son at the island bar. They ate in comfortable silence for a while before Jinta finally grunted.

"Dad, if 'yer serious 'bout sensei, you better go old school."

"Old school?" Grimmjow's brows drew together. What was his son getting at?

Jinta rolled his eyes, "He's a sensitive guy, dad. 'Yer gonna have to woo him, like, pull all the gentleman shit. If 'yer just messin' with him 'cuz ya need to bump off 'yer uglies, 'ya better just bring back that dude who ya never shut up about and comes around all the time."

Grimmjow couldn't help but laugh, _"KENPACHI?_ Oh my god, kid, are 'ya fuckin' nuts? He's my best friend and _boss_, 'ya lil psycho. Not only that, in what world do 'ya think that beast would _ever_ let someone fuck 'im?"

Jinta shrugged, "Never said you'd be doing the fucking."

Grimmjow narrowed his eyes before getting up from his seat, "Ya lil' shit! Take that back! Yer dad is a sex god!"

Jinta cackled with laughter before having the common sense to get out of his chair and run as his dad came tearing around the island, tackling him to the ground in the living room and tickling the shit out of his sides.

"Stop! Oh god, stop dad! St – _BWAHAHAHA AHA AHHHAHAHA!"_ Jinta screamed, crooning like a possessed hyena, "I'm gonna kill you!"

"Love ya too, kid," Grimmjow said, ruffling his son's hair one more time before letting him go. They just laid on the carpet for a while, catching their breaths.

"Sometimes I think 'yer the one raising me," Grimmjow finally murmured.

"Shut up. Yer a good dad," Jinta defended, punching Grimmjow on the shoulder, "Just…don't fuck up tomorrow's date."

Grimmjow sighed. Looked like he would have to make a cussing jar again. *

* * *

*_Growing up my mum had a lil glass jar that, every time we said a bad word, we'd have to put a quarter in it. A dollar if it was 'fuck' or 'fucking' or anything of that nature. It was terrible. I was broke ALL the time. Mum only gave me, like, three bucks a week fer doing laundry and stupid shit around the house (see? I woulda lost a quarter right there) so you can see I hate the fucking cussing jar. I'm pretty sure all 'ya know what I'm talkin' bout, but I was surprised some'a my friends had no idea what I was talkin' 'bout, so I included this lil' note just in case yer mum wasn't out for yer hard-earned pocket change ;)_

**ALRIGHT! PART ONE IS DONE! I HOPE YOU LIKE IT, RACEY! I'm working on part 2 so don't despair! I didn't want to leave ya blueballed, so I gave ya some father-son bonding fluff (and did'ya see that Jinta/DiRoy snuck in there? Yeah? Yeah, that was fer you haha!) I mean, all of this is for you, but'cha know what I mean. Hope 'yer enjoying it: I actually am having so much fun thinking up father/son dialogue I'd like to think Grimmjow would be a dad somewhat like this (and no boy in Bleach is cool enough to be his son 'cept Jinta, I think).**

**ANYWAYS, LOVE YOU! ~KILL**


	2. Part 2: The Date

**There's gonna be a couple cameos, just cuz I couldn't help myself. Some serious crack in those cameos too, methinks. I'm freakishly unbalanced. Uh…Enjoy! -TPP**

**WARNING: 9, 724 WORDS (24 PAGES) OF CRACKY-FLUFF & SEXY/SOMEWHAT DISTURBING SMUT AHEAD. I DON'T THINK I'VE EVER WRITTEN SMUT LIKE THIS. BUT, IT'S ALL MY IMAGINATION HAD TO OFFER AND I THINK RACEY WILL GET A KICK OUT OF IT, SO I HAVE NO REGRETS!**

**YOU CAN'T STOP OUR LOVE!**

**EXTRA WARNING: I WAS LOCKED OUT OF MY ACCOUNT CUZ FANFICTION IS A FUCKING MORON AND IS DELETING MY STORIES, SO HERE IS THE WARNING: THERE IS MALExMALE SEX AHEAD. IF YOU DO NOT WANT TO READ IT, TURN BACK NOW. THIS IS YOUR WARNING. FANFICTION IS DELETING STORIES WITH PROFANITY/SEX IN THE TITLE/SUMMARY, SO I WILL BE POSTING WARNINGS HERE FROM NOW ON, I GUESS. I'LL BE MAKING AN ACCOUNT ON ANOTHER SITE AND PROBABLY MOVE THERE CUZ I'M SO PISSED OFF TWO OF MY STORIES HAVE BEEN DELETED. RACEY'S STORIES ARE GETTING DELETED TOO, SO WE'RE BOTH FUCKING FURIOUS. **

**Anyways, the conclusion, and, as Racey likes to say:**

**ONWARDS…**

* * *

**A Passing Grade**

**Part 2: The Date [or] Friday, The Day of Cataclysmic Change**

* * *

**11:30 A.M.**

_"Iiiiiiiichi-chan~"_

Ichigo didn't even have time to roll his eyes before he felt arms wrap around his middle and a rather tall, lanky, pale-skinned fox demon latched onto his back.

"Ichimaru-sensei, what did I tell you about piggy back rides?" Ichigo sighed, too tired from his sleepless night of tossing and turning about a certain blue-haired dad to even bother pretending to have the strength to throw the eccentric history teacher off of him.

"Ne? Mah, Ichi-chan, tha' face ain't cute a'tall," Gin huffed, sliding off his kouhai's back and patting his extremely orange hair, "I jus' wanted 'ta have a bit'a fun. Anythin' 'ta make tha' berry blush!"

"Don't call me that, Ichimaru-sensei."

"Mah, who's that?" Gin said, putting a finger to his chin as if contemplating the rhetorical question, "My name's Gin. G-I-N, Ichi-chan!"

"Ugh, look, _Gin,_ at least call me Ichigo. I can't stand that pet name."

"Ah! So I _can_ call 'ya Ichigo," he snickered, patting Ichigo on the back, "We're finally the best'a friends, ne? I knew ya'd warm up 'ta me eventually!"

"More like bullying," Ichigo mumbled.

"Mah, what was that?"

"Ichimaru-sen-"

"Mah, _who?"_

_"Gin_, don't you have lunch duty in the cafeteria today?"

Gin put his finger to his chin again, tapping it there as he contemplated, "Mah, I s'pose I did. Ah, well, I'm sure the lil' cretins are gettin' along jus' fine."

"Ichima-"

_"WHOOOOOOO?"_

"Jesus Christ, Ichimaru, just go do your job already!" Ichigo nearly shouted, shoving the overlord of irritation towards the west wing, which led to the cafeteria.

"Mah, but I gotta hide!" Ichimaru said, opening his ice blue eyes wide and clinging to Ichigo's forearm, "I can't be seen out in the open all willy-nilly! He'll find me 'fer sure, and once he catches his prey, he don't ever let go, and I gotta give a lecture on Buddhism this afternoon, and I won't be able 'ta if my bottom hurts –"

_Oh god,_ Ichigo thought, trying to stop the image of the high school principal and the history teacher screwing each other senseless in the school hallways. Ever since Ichimaru had decided to make Ichigo his confidante in all things of the sexual nature regarding his relationship with the narcoleptic nymphomaniac, Ichigo was certain there wasn't going to be any issues if Ichigo and Grimmjow ended up dating. There were far too many other pressing problems in the teacher population then worrying about a math teacher dating a dad.

_If we date,_ Ichigo thought with another sigh, _keep dreaming, kid._

"Well, I'm heading to the teacher's lounge to heat up something to eat. Why don't you tag along? Safety in numbers, yeah?"

Gin's smile nearly split his face, hiding his eyes, "Mah, Ichi-chan, 'yer the bestest best friend anybody could ever have!"

Ichigo just shook his head as he was dragged through the hallways, counting down the minutes until he could escape the school grounds and get prepared for his date with a rather handsome dad.

When they made it to the teacher's lounge, a sleepy-eyed man in black slacks and a button down white shirt was sitting on the small couch next to the kitchenette, his eyes closed, but that didn't fool Ichigo for a minute. The narcoleptic nymphomaniac high school principal was probably more awake and alert then Ichigo was at the moment.

Starrk cracked an eye open, staring directly at Ichimaru, "Gin, where have you been, sweetheart? I've been looking everywhere for you."

"Mah, Principal Coyote, what a surprise! I was jus' headin' ta' the cafeteria, ya see, I'm on watch ta'day and-"

"Did you forget about our budget meeting? That field trip to the museum seemed really important to you last week."

"U-uh, yeah, sir, well, ya see-"

Starrk stood up slowly and stretched his arms over his head, yawning before approaching Ichimaru, who tried to hide behind Ichigo.

"Meet me in my office in five minutes and _maybe_ I won't make you wear the cat ears."

Starrk made it to the doorway of the teacher's lounge before Gin jumped him, making Ichigo's face break out in speckles of red.

_This is too far! Even for them!_

"Mah, how can 'ya ignore 'yer cute fiancé like that, Mr. Principal? Yer so mean," Gin murmured, wrapping his arms around the taller dark-haired man, "The wolf's supposed 'ta pounce on the fox, not the other way 'round!"

"My apologies," Starrk chuckled, kissing Ichimaru on the forehead before turning slightly to face Ichigo, "Your paycheck says that you didn't see anything here today."

Ichigo's mouth dropped open, wondering if Starrk was kidding or not. Was that a threat or an incentive?

Gin licked at Starrk's ear, "Ya gonna punish me, principal?"

"Oh yes. I think a spanking is long overdue."

The two disappeared and Ichigo was left alone in the teacher's lounge, his ears still burning.

_What the fuck? _ _Adults running around acting like freaking oversexed teenagers! _

The door re-opened, revealing a tall, redheaded and heavily tattooed gym teacher. He was sporting Nike track pants and a light grey tank that had _ARRANCAR ACADEMY_ stamped out across the front. Ichigo had to admit, if he hadn't met Grimmjow yesterday, he'd be sorely tempted right now, especially since Renji had a light sheen of sweat on him. He'd more than likely just finished with the eighth grade class who were all clamoring to get onto the high school track team.

Renji's eyebrows were drawn together, "Oi, did'ja know Starrk's fuckin' Gin? How long's that been goin' on?"

Ichigo headed to the fridge, ignoring his oblivious work mate.

"All body, no brains."

"Huh?"

"Nothing, Pineapple Head."

* * *

**4 P.M.**

"Ya gotta be shittin' me."

"What? Too much?" Grimmjow grumbled, rubbing the back of his neck in slight embarrassment. His best friend of nearly a decade, kendo teacher, and boss of Hollow Inc. shook his head from side to side a few times, his long, jet black hair down past his shoulders today instead of up in its usual crazy spikes. He looked huge, especially standing in the hallway that led from the living room to the kitchen table area, where he had his dark grey eyes focused on the red and white rose petals that were strewn all over the carpet and onto the table that was set with silver candelabra and porcelain plates.

"It's so girly," Kenpachi growled with a shiver going down his hulking frame.

Grimmjow drew his brows together, remembering Jinta's advice, "Nah, it's just old school. Ya know, wooing and whatnot."

"This Ichigo kid's got a dick, yeah?" Kenpachi said with a leer, "Ya think he's gonna be impressed?"

Grimmjow sighed and threw himself into a chair. All this preparation and the date was still four hours away. He was tired: he had gotten up super early (did he mention he _wasn't _a morning person?) and started cleaning the shit out of his modest house, hiding the boat and motorcycle magazines and opening all the windows and Febreezing the shit out of the place to cover up the cigarette smoke. He'd organized the entertainment system and put away the mountain of games that he'd bought for Jinta or himself. He'd shined and cleaned every available surface, even getting on his hands and knees to do the wood floor, "Jinta said I need 'ta take it old school. I don' wanna scare Ichigo off before he's even given me a chance."

Kenpachi laughed, "Well, I gotta say, this ain't you. I think he'll scare off just from the rose petals alone. A lil' strong for a first date, don't'cha think?"

"I don't know what I'm doin'," Grimmjow huffed, running his hands through his hair and leaning his elbows on the small glass dinner table, "I just followed a vid I found on Youtube. I've never – ya know, had to be romantic before."

Kenpachi nodded, understanding coloring his features, "God, I remember the first time I told Kisuke I loved him: you'd think the world had come to an end 'er somethin'. But…" a shark grin contorted Kenpachi's features, telling Grimmjow that whatever he was thinking was incredibly lewd, "I got a _lot_ of rewards that night. Heh, if I'd'a known he was gonna let me tie 'im up like that–"

"Yo, Z, I don't need 'ta know the details," Grimmjow said, trying to build up mental walls against imagining his good friend who ran a small convenience store downtown doing _anything _sexual. Hell, the man was notorious for his perversions, so he could only imagine how much more Kenpachi had corrupted him over the fifteen years of their partnership.

_"Ha,_ 'yer just jealous 'ya can't sex up this Ichigo kid yet," Kenpachi motioned his hand over the petals as if pointing at bugs, "I wouldn't have 'em trailing all over the floor. Some on the table is good, but this is just overkill, and I know a thing 'er two about overkills. Seriously, G, just chill. Be yourself: he's gonna want more, ya know?"

Grimmjow crossed his arms over his chest, pouting. Kenpachi always had a word of wisdom and, considering Kenpachi had been able to keep a relationship with a man for over a decade with two kids and keep the romance from sizzling out, hell, Grimmjow would be an idiot not to take his advice.

Then it hit Grimmjow: Kenpachi was his possible future.

Kenpachi had been married for only a few years but him and his ex-wife Soi Fon had had a baby boy named Shuhei. When they divorced and after plenty of custody battles, Kenpachi got the kid and Soi Fon disappeared into the military for good. Grimmjow had kept going to Kenpachi for advice and shit about parenting, which Kenpachi had taken in stride, considering when they had met and started hanging out, Shuhei had been about five and his adopted baby girl a newborn, and Jinta was barely walking.

The friendship had kept growing from there and, surprisingly, the men had a lot more in common then just fatherhood.

But then Kenpachi had introduced him to his _husband,_ Urahara Kisuke and Grimmjow's eyebrows had hit the roof. Grimmjow had played for the vagina team until he discovered the rewarding world of cock in his twenties (better late then never) but he'd never even known Kenpachi swung that way, and when asked about it, Kenpachi had shrugged.

_"Our eyes met. That was it. It was over. I knew I was done." _

Goosebumps raked up and down Grimmjow's back, Kenpachi's old words swimming in his head as he thought about Kurosaki-sensei.

The second the orange head's amber eyes had connected with his own, he'd felt something drop in his gut with the weight of an anchor.

_Holy shit,_ Grimmjow thought, clearing his throat, _game over. _

"I'm whipped, Z."

"No shit. Jus' make yer damn famous lasagna and be honest. Can't go wrong."

Kenpachi knocked him on the forehead with a huge calloused palm, making Grimmjow grunt. Sometimes he forgot the ten year age difference between them: Kenpachi felt more like an older brother, and he sure as hell didn't act like a mature 41-year-old father of two teenagers.

"Good luck with yer shit. I gotta go pick Yachi up from ballet," Kenpachi said as he walked down the hall, waving absently behind himself.

"What about the other brat?"

"Shu's workin' a shift at Kisuke's. He wants that damn guitar, he's gonna have 'ta earn it himself."

"That's what you said about Urahara's shop, but you barely waited an hour before buying up that property for him."

"Fuck off, G. Ya do crazy shit when 'yer in love."

Grimmjow laughed as Kenpachi saluted him before slamming the front door behind him.

Grimmjow looked at the crazy amount of petals all over the carpet, feeling like a blue island trapped in a sea of Hallmark foolishness.

He sighed, then got up just so he could get down again, beginning to pluck the petals from the thick beige carpet one-by-one, "Yeah, crazy shit."

* * *

**6:30 P.M.**

Ichigo sprayed a bit of his favorite cologne, something that smelled a little bit more like a cinnamon spice then what most men wore. It was faint, but that was okay. He didn't want to knock Grimmjow out.

_If he even gets that close,_ Ichigo thought with a blush.

But, Ichigo knew this night was going in one direction and one direction only, if Grimmjow's antics yesterday were anything to go by. So, of course, Ichigo had taken extra time in the bathroom to make sure he was as perfect as possible. Extra soap, extra tender loving care to his backside, and, of course, making sure his hair was cleaned up. He wasn't a fan of hair being anywhere but on his head, thank you very much.

He shrugged into the mirror, hoping he was tan enough. Ichigo was a gay man: of course he took incredible pride in his body, but he hoped he wasn't taking it to the obsessive level that some gay men took it to. A professor of his from college had been an ice queen and a gym rat, one of the buffest gay dudes Ichigo had ever seen, and he'd been extremely critical of anything physical, male or female. Ichigo shook his head: he REALLY hoped he didn't act like that.*

"I just want to look good for him," Ichigo mumbled aloud, "What's wrong with wanting to look your best?"

"Talkin' 'ta yerself in the mirror again, King? 'Yer really losin' yer shit, bro."

Ichigo whirled on his younger brother and roommate. Shiro wasn't usually home this early: he was a senior in college and tended to go out as much as his young body could withstand, which was usually all night, every night. Shirosaki was a monster, and monstrously popular not only because of his exotic skin and eyes but also because of his brains. Ichigo might have gotten their mother's looks, but Shirosaki had ended up with her genius science brain.

_Full academic scholarship, the lil' asshole. _

At least the nickname King wasn't malicious or a mockery of Ichigo's choice to choose a humble career path instead of taking over their father's clinic like he'd hoped and dreamed one of his two sons would take on. The nickname had come around during one of their earliest chess matches: Shirosaki was almost ten years younger then Ichigo, but they'd played all the time. No matter how smart Shirosaki was, he could barely ever beat his older brother at chess, Ichigo's favorite game since he was six years old.

"You're home early," Ichigo murmured, turning back to the mirror to dry his hair better. He was in simple black boxers at the moment, but it wasn't like they didn't see each other naked all the time (Shirosaki tended to be naked far more often with his constant one-night stands being found all over the apartment like forgotten used toys).

"Cram week. Had 'ta get outta' the lab 'fer a while," Shiro groaned, flopping down onto Ichigo's futon, "Ukitake-sensei's drillin' me through the ground. If he thinks I'm gonna input all that experimental data and have my senior thesis in by Wednesday, he's fuckin' outta' his mind."

Ichigo snorted, remembering Shirosaki's constant rambling about his main sensei, a doctor who took on honor students to help him with his stem cell research at the university. Ichigo knew almost nothing about it (considering Shirosaki's science vocabulary was like the albino was speaking in tongues) but it was far more complex and controversial then he'd ever imagined. It wasn't just simply "cancer research": that was like saying Noah's ark only had tigers on it. There were elephants, zebras, and mice too, which was Shirosaki's area of expertise.

"Sorry you get paid to go to school and stare through microscopes all day. Must be tough. Your harem must really tire you out," Ichigo said with a teasing lilt in his tone, "but us simple, blue-collared folk have one-hundred-something students to control and papers to grade."

"Ah, shut up, King. S'not my fault I'm a fuckin' genius."

Ichigo did laugh then, walking over to his closet and pulling out a green t-shirt and washed out jeans. Finally, a chance to be casual. Having dinner at Grimmjow's house with a cheap bottle of wine sounded pretty damn casual, so Ichigo was trying not to over think his outfit.

"You got a hot date tonight?" Shiro teased, never guessing his older brother was finally going out and getting himself a life.

"Actually, yeah, smart ass, I do."

"Who's the unlucky stud?"

"The hottest thing on the face of the planet. Be jealous."

Shirosaki grinned, "Nah, that's impossible. _I'm_ dating the hottest piece this side of the hemisphere. Sorry."

Ichigo pulled the shirt over his head before looking at his brother with an exaggerated scared face, "Who are you, and what have you done with my relationship-retarded lil' brother Shiro?"

Ichigo grunted as Shiro threw a heavy decorative pillow at him, "Shut up. Shuhei's sexy."

"Wow, you remember his _name_. This could be _**THE ONE!"**_

"I'm'a kill ya, King."

Ichigo tugged on his jeans before fixing a belt through the loops, "Just playing. That's good, Shiro. How long?"

"A month and a day."

Ichigo looked at his little brother then, lifting his deceased mother's gold necklace from his bureau to fix around his neck. His brother had the matching bracelet but never wore it, claiming it was because it clashed atrociously with his skin color, but Ichigo knew better: his little brother cherished it far too much to risk losing it by wearing it.

"Wow, you really do like this kid."

"Ah, yeah, and, uh…he's kinda…he's in high school," Shiro said with a sheepish look on his face as he scratched the back of his head, "he's eighteen, though! I swear. I didn't know he was four years younger then me – he's so mature…"

"What high school? Maybe I know him," Ichigo was fibbing, of course. He barely knew any kids from the adjoining high school, but if he was a senior there was a good chance he'd chaperoned him at some time or another for the various school activities and dances.

"Your high school, Arrancar Academy. Zaraki Shuhei."

Ichigo raised a brow, but not totally surprised. Punks with brains had always been his brother's preference, "Isn't that the kid who works for Urahara?"

"Yeah, that's how we…ya know, but I really like him, King. A lot. Which is…weird."

Ichigo wandered over to his little brother and ruffled his hair until Shiro got annoyed and slapped his hand away playfully, "Looks like everybody's getting lucky in the love department lately, huh?"

"Yeah, well, you better get laid tonight, bro, 'cuz I sure as hell am," Shiro said with a wink, "Just waiting for him to get off work."

"Huh, well I'm heading there now myself if you want a lift."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Grimmjow told me to bring some wine, so –" Ichigo trailed off, blushing furiously.

Shiro's eyebrows scrunched together, "Grimmjow…I've heard that name before..."

"Doubt it. Too rare," Ichigo supplied, hoping his voice didn't sound nearly as girly and dreamy out loud as it did in his head.

"Arite, well hurry 'yer girly self up so we can bounce."

"Shut the fuck up."

* * *

**6:50 P.M.**

"Ah, welcome, Ichigo-san! Shiro-san! Such a nice evening, ne?" Urahara greeted them upon entering the humble shop. It was pretty old school, but that was what Ichigo liked about it. Sturdy wooden shelves in neat rows that housed different kinds of snacks, simple foods, and nearly every kind of candy and beverage imaginable.

And, of course, plenty of liquor along the back wall.

"What's up, Urahara? Working hard or barely working?" Ichigo said, heading straight for the wine aisle as Shiro zeroed in on a sweeping Shuhei.

"Ha, well, you know," Urahara said vaguely, fanning himself with a white-and-green striped fan. The shop was cool, thanks to the recently installed air conditioning unit, but Kisuke always had the damn thing with him.

The blonde older male smirked at Ichigo as he approached the counter with one bottle of red wine and one bottle of white wine.

"Indecisive, aren't we. Must be a date," Urahara said playfully with a wink as he scanned the bottles.

"Uh, well, I never asked him which kind he likes, so better to be safe then sorry."

"Ooooh~ who's the lucky guy?" Urahara said, placing his elbows on the counter and setting his head there, staring Ichigo down like they were best friends sharing hot gossip, "Come on, don't leave a boring old man hanging!"

"Um…his-his name's Grimmjow," Ichigo started, knowing his ears were already red.

Urahara's eyes went impossibly wide at the same time the bell at the front of the shop went off, announcing new customers.

_**"But DAAAAAD, WHYYYYYY?"**_

"Cuz 'yer too young. It's not like they'll never play another concert in Karakura. Relax."

Ichigo really hoped he hadn't peed his pants upon laying eyes on the giant of a man that had just come into the store. He was absolutely huge, at least six and a half feet and WIDE, but not at all fat. He was covered in muscle (a gym rat?) and the extremely petite girl at his side had the brightest pink hair Ichigo had ever seen trailing halfway down her back. She had a Chappy Bunny t-shirt on and multiple neon-colored bracelets. It was obvious they were father and daughter from conversation, but seriously, Ichigo never would have guessed if he'd seen them on the street.

"But that's not _FAIR!_ You let Shuhei go ta' see Soul Society last year!" the girl pouted, grabbing a package of cookies off of the rack closest to her and opening it before starting to chew on one of the cookies.

_Who the hell were these people? _

"Enough, Yachi. Yer brother's eighteen, you're fourteen. Big difference. 'Sides, I don't trust that Rukia friend of yers…she's a little…_off."* (*A/N: So I don't like Rukia. Sue me.)_

"It's just me and Ururu and Nel!" the pink-haired girl screeched, grabbing onto the massive man's arm and bouncing up and down, "Come on, Kenny! You're killing me!"

"Wha'd I tell 'ya 'bout calling me Kenny?" the hulking man sulked as the Yachi girl ran around the other side of the counter and practically jumped on Urahara.

"Hi, Daddy!" she chirped, kissing him on the cheek and hugging his arm, "Kenny's being mean! You'll let me go see Soul Society, won't you, daddy?"

Urahara laughed as Ichigo looked between the two 'dads', totally out of his element.

"Kenny and I will talk about it later tonight, okay, sweetheart?"

"Hmmm, okay," she finally consented, looking at Ichigo with giant squishy girl eyes, "Hey, Mr. Strawberry-sensei!"

"Um, hi?" Ichigo answered, not knowing what else to do.

"I'm Zaraki-Urahara Yachiru, but call me Yachi, everybody does! I'm a freshman, but I've seen you wandering around during break times at school. You're a math teacher, right? That's really boring, Strawberry-sensei," she said with a laugh and another pop of a cookie into her mouth before she held the package out towards Ichigo, "Want one? They're delicious. You should TOTALLY buy some! Like, ten packs! They're only 300 yen a pack!"

Urahara ruffled Yachiru's hair before smirking, "That's enough advertising, Yachi. How about you go help Kenny load the boxes from the storeroom? He's gonna need more help."

"Don't encourage her, babe," Zaraki grumbled, pecking his husband on the lips, "It's bad enough she calls me Kenny."

"I'll help!" Shiro nearly shouted, following Shuhei towards the storeroom, oblivious to the critical eye the giant Kenny was following him with, his arms crossed over his chest as soon as he saw the albino disappear into the back room with his only son.

"I'm…totally confused right now," Ichigo began, looking from Urahara to Yachiru to the murderous glint appearing in the Kenny man's eyes.

_The Kenny man wants to murder my brother to protect his son's maybe-virgin ass. Urahara has a Teletubby daughter on crack. What am I missing here? _

"Oh, how rude of me," Urahara started, laughing jovially, patting Yachiru's head again, "This is my daughter Yachi and my husband Zaraki Kenpachi. They barely ever come into the store, but when I need help with deliveries, they're here in a snap! Shuhei's our son too. Well, he's my stepson, but he might as well be from my man-womb. Ah~ he was so cute as a baby! Ah, but he's Kenpachi's blood, you know! He's our one-and-only cherished son!"

Ichigo stared at Kenpachi's menacing form again as the man smiled (a friendly smile? A shark smile? He wasn't sure) and suddenly feared for Shiro's life.

"N-nice to meet you."

"Likewise, orange head," Zaraki said, nearly breaking Ichigo's hand in a handshake, "Or more like strawberry."

"Ahahaha! How funny! His name so happens to be Ichigo. Kurosaki Ichigo!" Urahara said before winking at Kenpachi.

If it was possible, Kenpachi's smile got even scarier, "Huh, well how 'bout that. Small world, huh?"

"I guess?" Ichigo said, not knowing why Urahara and Zaraki were giving him both such different smiles.

"I'm not hungry anymore. You can have the rest, Strawberry-sensei!" Yachiru said, leaving the cookies on the counter and running towards the back room.

Ichigo couldn't help it, "She's adorable."

"Thank you!" Urahara beamed.

"I didn't even know you were married, Urahara," Ichigo said off-handedly, always imagining the lewd shopkeeper to be a free shark in the waters of the homosexual world.

"Ohoho! Oh no, I've been happily married for nearly sixteen years!" Urahara said, showing off a very intricately braided bracelet of gold and silver, "It's so much more masculine then a ring, don't you think? Kenny picked it out himself!"

"Babe, don't make me break 'yer arm," Kenpachi said lowly, grabbing Urahara by the chin and pecking him on the lips again, "You know you're only allowed to call me two things."

"Ah, yes yes, I remember, Kenpachi," Urahara said, winking at Ichigo, "he's fond of Captain Cock, but usually he makes me scream it. You know, when he's pounding me through the mattress."

_Too much information_, Ichigo thought. _Just...no. That is not normal. _

"Well, I'm running late, so here," Ichigo said, practically throwing the bills at Urahara before grabbing the bag with the bottles of wine neatly packaged so as not to rub against each other and break. He couldn't get out of there fast enough.

"Ah~ he's my favorite customer to tease," Urahara said with another airy laugh, "Ah, to be that young again! Grimmjow certainly knows how to pick them, ne?"

"He'll be fine. He actually likes this kid. You should'a seen the house: it was like Casanova took a dump on Martha Stewart."

"I'm sure it wasn't _that_ bad."

"Pretty damn close."

"Well, I'm glad," Urahara said, getting up on his tiptoes to kiss his husband on the cheek, "Ichigo's a good man. He deserves to have some romance in his life. Someone to sweep him off his feet~!"

Zaraki picked his husband up and dropped him over his shoulder like a fresh deer carcass, listening to the air whoosh out of Kisuke's lungs.

"Stop talkin' 'bout other men around me," Zaraki said heatedly, carrying his prize off towards the stairs. They had built a small upper-level for a resting place / break room.

"B-but the kids…!"

"Come on. I know that demon kid's probably got his tongue down Shuhei's throat by now, and Yachi's probably eating her weight in gumdrops."

"B-but-"

"Don't even. I already flipped the CLOSED sign."

Urahara chuckled, "I love it when you get like this, all demanding and 'no Kisuke this, no Kisuke that'. It's very hot, husband."

"Captain Cock likes it even more."

Kisuke laughed all the way to the top of the stairs.

Hopefully he'd remembered to restock the lube.

* * *

**7:15 P.M.**

Ichigo stood on Grimmjow's stoop, trying to collect his breath.

He was early, he knew that, but there was no _way_ he could have stayed at the shop another second.

Hopefully Grimmjow considered him punctual. It was fashionable to be a little early nowadays, right?

_Or I look like a desperate loser, _Ichigo thought to himself. _Ah, well. Better here then there. _

He knocked a few times, his heart rate beginning to pump blood harder as he tried not to think about where the night might lead.

Growing impatient, Ichigo finally just pushed the door open, wondering if Grimmjow was okay. He wasn't THAT early, and the man had said he was going to make dinner, so where the hell was he?

Ichigo toed his shoes off in the hallway when he heard the stereo, making his brows draw together tightly.

_Kati Perry? _

Ichigo made his way through the living room area, noting the wood entertainment system that took up almost the entire wall and the comfy looking dark leather furniture. The carpet felt awesome beneath his feet, and several works of art hung on the adjoining walls with a tall, skinny bookshelf near the reclining chair stuffed full of everything from classics like Wuthering Heights to Stephen King thrillers.

_Smoking hot, cultured, and smart? So this is what love feels like. _

Ichigo wandered in the direction of the music, realizing that a very male voice was bolting as hard as it could over the pop star, his back to Ichigo in the kitchen as he had on bright blue oven mits that made Ichigo want to laugh out loud. They nearly matched his hair.

Ichigo appreciated the view as Grimmjow bent over to retrieve a rather large pan of lasagna from the confines of the oven and put it on the countertop in front of him. Grimmjow slid to the side on the tile floor, his socks creating extra slickness as he pivoted:

_"Let's go all the way tonight, no regrets, just love…_

_we can dance until we die…you and I…will be young forever!"_

Ichigo had to put a hand over his mouth as he watched the unbelievable cuteness unfolding right before his eyes. Ichigo had to appreciate the man's shirtless state, which exposed a giant gothic 6 tattoo on his lower back, his jeans riding ridiculously low on those ridiculous hips…

_I can't have a boner before dinner. No, this is not happening... _

**"You make me feel like I'm livin' a teenage dream, the way you turn me on, **

**I can't sleep, let's run away and don't ever look back don't ever look back! **

**My heart stops, when ya look at me, just one touch, now baby I believe…!"**

Grimmjow moonwalked and did some kind of pivot thing where he twisted completely around, and when his eyes landed on Ichigo, he looked so adorably flustered Ichigo had to laugh then.

Grimmjow practically sprinted for the compact stereo attached below a set of overhanging cabinets, turning it down before facing Ichigo again, his hair a gorgeous mess over his forehead, his glasses showing how much he was blushing.

"Uh, hey, you," Grimmjow finally mumbled, taking off the oven mitts as he tried not to look directly at Ichigo's face, "Yer early."

"And I'm so glad I was," Ichigo said, setting the bag of wine down on the island counter before taking in the site before him. Herbs and sliced up vegetables and all kinds of cooking supplies littered the kitchen and that lasagna smelled so good Ichigo's mouth was already watering.

"Um…maybe I'll go put on a shirt. It'll give me some time to think about how humiliated I am," Grimmjow said, running a hand through his hair.

Ichigo leaned against the counter, loving this a little _too_ much.

For some reason, Ichigo felt like Grimmjow was totally vulnerable right now, which was just _too fucking cute. _

Which made Ichigo feel…very comfortable.

"Or you could not," Ichigo said, staring at Grimmjow's smooth, ridiculously perfect chest and licking his bottom lip unconsciously when he noticed the silver nipple ring, "Wouldn't want dinner to get cold, you know?"

Grimmjow's smile was slow and too damn perfect, "Just for the record, I don't usually act like this when I'm cooking. Teenage Dream is so fucking catchy my body couldn't deny it.*"

"Totally forgiven. If it had been Spice Girls, I might have even joined in," Ichigo said with a laugh.

Grimmjow grinned at him, "I'll be right back."

Ichigo unloaded the bottles from the bag before hunting in the cabinets for wine glasses, finding them quickly and unscrewing one of the lids of the white wine (his favorite, and yes, screwing the top off. Wine was still classy, bargain bin or no bargain bin).

Grimmjow came scampering back in about a minute later (wearing a striped tank top, dammit!) but toting a CD.

He popped it into the player and pressed the forward button, the leer never leaving his face as he set about chopping up the rest of the Italian olive salad he'd set out earlier:

_"YO I'll tell ya what I want what I really really want!..._

_**"SO TELL ME WHAT YOU WANT WHAT YOU REALLY REALLY WANT!...**_

_I'LL TELL YA WHAT I WANT WHAT I REALLY REALLY WANT…!"_

Ichigo nearly spit the wine out of his mouth before both men became nearly hysterical with laughter.

_"…I want (ah!) I want (ah!) I really really wanna zig zig **AH!"**_

Ichigo handed Grimmjow one of the goblets he had poured and Grimmjow took it, wiggling his eyebrows while mouthing along to the song, _"If YA WANNA BE MY** LOVER,** YA GOTTA GET WITH MY FRIENDS…"_

It was so stupid, but Ichigo hadn't had this much fun in a long, long time. Shit, maybe even since high school. They hip-bumped each other when it got back to the chorus, Ichigo offering to help slice up the (homemade?) Italian bread and toting it towards the set dining table. He couldn't keep the stupid smile off of his face as he stared at the beautiful porcelain plates and silverware with crushed rose petals around a single plain-white candle in the middle of the table. It was so simple, but it made Ichigo's heart clang around in his ribcage.

_Shit, how can he be such a dork but so romantic? Fuck! _

Grimmjow arrived with the lasagna and Ichigo grabbed the now awesome-looking salad (with extra croutons, Grimmjow said it was pointless without croutons) and Grimmjow poured them each another glass of wine.

Conversation was easy. Too easy. Ichigo wasn't nervous at all. In fact, Grimmjow was so down to earth, happy with such trivial things, that Ichigo found himself fascinated by his humility. He kept turning conversation back to Ichigo, about his family, his job, his dreams.

It was surreal to be treated like a prince for once. To think that somebody wanted him, like, for real.

Two hours went by. Maybe three.

"Ah, almost forgot about dessert," Grimmjow chastised himself, heading for the kitchen, "Mint Chocolate Chip or Cookies and Cream?"

"Grimmjow."

Grimmjow whipped his head around the edge of the partition separating the kitchen from the dining area, "What's up?"

"I like you," Ichigo admitted, knowing his whole body was probably flushed, "So if this is some kind of twisted joke, please tell me now so that I don't fall for you more."

Grimmjow's eyes went a little wide before he composed himself and leaned against the wall. He rubbed at his eyes, pushing his glasses up into his hair, "Tha's not fair, Ichigo. I'm tryin' 'ta be a gentleman."

Ichigo smiled, "I know, and I appreciate it. A lot. I do, but…I've had an erection since I got here and, well, seriously, I was expecting a one night stand, but…I don't really know if I could handle that now."

Grimmjow groaned, pushing a fist to his forehead, "I'm gonna sound so uncool right now."

"Huh?"

Grimmjow sighed before making his way over to Ichigo and getting down on his knees in front of Ichigo, taking his hands in his.

Ichigo nearly threw up his heart.

"Holy fuck, you're not proposing to me, are you?"

"What? No, well, not yet, I mean – maybe some- wait, lemme think," Grimmjow said, closing his eyes for a second before opening them again and staring into Ichigo's, "I just wanna say that – fuck, this sounds corny, but – since the moment I laid eyes on you in your classroom, I knew you were it. _BAM. **FIREWORKS."**_

"Another Kati Perry reference?" Ichigo teased, trying to make light of the situation.

"Shut up," Grimmjow said with a smirk, "The point is…uh, I've never done a proper relationship, ya know? I've never really _been_ with someone, for real, like, everything. I want that with you. I think you're it for me."

Ichigo wanted to scream at the tops of his lungs.

"This isn't happening."

"Huh?"

"I'm sleeping right now, aren't I? I'm gonna wake up and never have met you, or you never kissed me at the conference, or I'm not really in love with you or something –"

"Is that so bad? Bein' in love with me?"

Ichigo squirmed in the chair, his hands still clasped in Grimmjow's, "Sorry to piss on your parade, Grimm, but we've known each other, what? Twenty four hours?"

"So?" Grimmjow shot back, leaning up into Ichigo's face, breathing against his mouth, "Is there a rule book? A calendar?* You wanna take a survey for the next year, ten years, twenty years? I'm just tryin' 'ta be honest with you, 'cuz I feel like I've known 'ya my whole life already. I want you, I've gotta have you. You're it for me."

_Oh my fucking god, take me now!_

"This is crazy. We barely know each other –"

"I'll get to know you better," Grimmjow promised, pecking him on the lips.

"I don't know where you work, why your kid hates me-"

"I work for Hollow Inc. I'm a web designer, but I dapple in other art shit too. My kid doesn't hate you. He actually really likes you, told me to woo you instead of jump you, told me not to break your heart."

Ichigo grabbed both sides of Grimmjow's face, holding his head steady, "If you're fucking with me, Grimmjow Jaegerjaques, I will kick your ass."

Ichigo thought his dick couldn't get any harder when he saw Grimmjow shiver slightly.

"I'm not fucking with you," Grimmjow purred, pushing one of his palms against Ichigo's crotch, "Not yet, anyway."

"Shit," Ichigo breathed, wanting everything to stop but not at the same time, "I'm such a slut. We haven't even had dessert yet."

"I could have you for dessert."

Ichigo busted out laughing, nearly forgetting his straining erection as Grimmjow unzipped his pants, "Seriously? I cannot believe you just said something so fucking corny."

"What are you talking about? That's perfectly cliché porn dialogue, babe."

Ichigo mewled, his heart stuttering at the endearment. Grimmjow was stroking his cock now, slowly, too slowly, in Ichigo's opinion.

"Can I, Ichigo? Can I eat you up?" Grimmjow husked, his tongue poking the very tip of Ichigo's cock, Ichigo's toes curling as he saw the glint of Grimmjow's tongue ring.

Ichigo arched his back, hating and loving the torture.

Then he glared and set his right foot over Grimmjow's crotch, making him hiss, "If you put that in your mouth right now, we'll never make it to the bed."

Ichigo cried out as Grimmjow nibbled along the edge of his cock, milking the precum with his talented fingers, "We have all night to make it to the bed, Kurosaki."

Ichigo barely had time to gasp before he felt it, the force of his orgasm making him nearly buck off the chair, Grimmjow's face now covered in spurts of cream.

"S-sorry," Ichigo whispered, totally embarrassed.

"Are you kidding? That was hot," Grimmjow leered, leaning up and kissing Ichigo on the mouth, "Never had a facial before."

Ichigo didn't know whether to laugh or moan again.

"Take me to bed," Ichigo murmured against Grimmjow's lips, "I want you to fuck me properly, right now, please."

Grimmjow growled, allowing it to build in his throat before he jumped up and dragged Ichigo to his room, not bothering to close the door before throwing him onto the bed.

"Fuck, ya look sexy like that," Grimmjow said, licking his lips and wiping the rest of Ichigo's spunk off with his hands onto his jeans before unbuttoning them, "but how 'bout we get you naked?"

Ichigo pulled his t-shirt up over his head and started sliding his jeans all the way off before Grimmjow got impatient and nearly ripped them off his legs before tugging on Ichigo's boxers, Ichigo gasping as they ripped along the seems.

"Apologies," Grimmjow murmured, attacking Ichigo's mouth, "but no underwear allowed in my bed. Ever."

Ichigo couldn't reply because he couldn't breathe. He was flipped onto his stomach, his ass raised, and Ichigo's eyes went wide.

"What are you – _HAAAAAAAAHN!"_

Grimmjow's tongue lapped greedily at Ichigo's pink hole, running the gauntlet around his taint and sloppily sucking at perfect hairless balls before doing it all over again, his tongue prodding hard against Ichigo's now begging hole.

"I thought you wanted to be fucked properly, Ichigo."

Ichigo's eyes nearly rolled into the back of his head, "Fuck! Don't stop!"

"I'm gonna eat you from the inside out, pumkin."

"Grimmjow, just –hnnnnnn," Ichigo couldn't think, couldn't breathe, couldn't do ANYTHING but hope to god the blue-haired man didn't STOP.

It was beginning to feel so good it was painful, Grimmjow's teeth teasing his rim, making him scream bloody murder.

"So good," Grimmjow husked, freeing his own cock that was veined and throbbing. He was soaking wet already, hard before they had even made it to the bedroom, "You're so good, Ichigo, I'm gonna go crazy."

Ichigo spread his legs further, desperate for Grimmjow's penetration. He even had the arm function left to spread his cheeks, making Grimmjow groan loudly.

"Shut the fuck up and fuck me!" Ichigo demanded, past the point of being polite.

_I'm a slut. I'm a fucking cock slut for Grimmjow. _

Ichigo screamed as Grimmjow slid in, his cock barely halfway before Grimmjow rotated his hips, slipping completely in as Ichigo adjusted.

"Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck," Grimmjow chanted, biting into the side of Ichigo's neck, "So tight, so perfect…"

Ichigo tightened his ass in warning. Really, a little talk was good, dirty talk was even better, but Ichigo was so hazed in lust he couldn't tolerate anymore, "Fuck me, Grimmjow!"

Grimmjow chuckled huskily, gaining his breath, before…

_THE WORLD EXPLODED._

Ichigo could barely breathe, his screams grew higher and higher until his voice just cracked and he felt like he would choke on his own saliva. Grimmjow was relentless, pounding at a force that made Ichigo feel as if the man's oversized cock was going into his stomach.

_If I was a woman, I'd already be pregnant. _

"Fuh – oh- naaaaaah, Grimmjowwwwww!" Ichigo bellowed, meeting Grimmjow's thrusts, so close to the edge he couldn't do anything but scream bloody murder.

"Fuck me, yer a screamer," Grimmjow howled, beyond turned on. He never would've pegged Ichigo to be so vocal in the bedroom, but he was _glad_ he'd been wrong. It was the hottest thing he'd ever heard, ever seen.

Which made him cum, and cum _hard_.

He kept fucking Ichigo until he felt his own cum begin to drip out of that perfect hole and started dripping along his hips, down his thighs. Fuck, there was so much.

Grimmjow rode out his orgasm, unable to comprehend anything else in the world as he tried to hold onto heaven, his hands bruising into Ichigo's hips.

When he finally gained enough sense, Grimmjow brought his hand beneath Ichigo's panting body, stroking his dick once, twice…

Ichigo cried out his release, collapsing into the sheets, heaving for air as Grimmjow flopped down on top of him, his now-soft cock still in Ichigo's dripping ass.

Neither spoke for minutes until Grimmjow shifted, pulling his spent cock out and watching Ichigo's ass for a moment.

He couldn't help it. He parted the red cheeks, watching his cum slide out slowly down the soft globes.

He licked his lips. Give him thirty seconds and he'd be hard again, he just knew it.

"Your ass looks amazing."

"It's amazingly sore," Ichigo corrected, wiggling his hips out of Grimmjow's grasp, but he just held on and slapped one of the cheeks. Ichigo moaned, too tired to fight.

"I think that was the best sex I've ever had."

"I think that was the best sex _anyone_ has ever had," Grimmjow corrected, stretching up to place a kiss between Ichigo's shoulder blades, "That was earth-shattering."

"Soul searing."

"Universe crushing. New rule: you're not allowed to leave my bed. Ever. 'Kay?"

Ichigo hummed in contentment as he slid onto his side, pulling Grimmjow in for a sloppy, sincere kiss, "I think I more than like you."

"That's good."

"Mmhm."

* * *

_**11 A.M.**_

Ichigo dragged himself out of Grimmjow's shower, totally refreshed, his ass barely sore.

Good. He'd thought after a night like that, he'd be out of commission for a week.

Or two. Or three. Fuck, his ass actually _was_ pretty tender, but he was a tough dude, and no way was he going to be able to weasel his way out of visiting his dad and sisters for the weekend ahead.

It was slightly sad. Ichigo didn't want to leave Grimmjow for the whole weekend when they'd just discovered each other.

Maybe it was moving too fast, but, at the moment, he was happy, so it didn't matter.

Ichigo wandered into the kitchen, hearing Grimmjow whistle along to an oldie, most definitely a Frank Sinatra tune.

Ichigo just stood there for a few moments, admiring the strong lines of Grimmjow's back. He was sporting blue boxers and an apron that said '_I Killed The Cook'_, his blue hair still damp from his shower before Ichigo's.

He'd wanted to shower together, but Grimmjow had declined, saying there was no way he was going to be able to leave the berry alone while washing, and that there was no way he could possibly get hard again for at least a few hours.

_"Totally milked me dry, Ichi. You're sexy as all get-out, but fuck, you'd kill me." _

Ichigo chuckled at the memory, making Grimmjow raise a brow at him before setting two plates of pancakes down for them to enjoy with some fresh fruit.

Ichigo didn't realize how hungry he was until he'd had a full stack of pancakes and two glasses of orange juice, not to mention a mug of hazelnut coffee, one of his favorites.

Yeah, him and Grimmjow were gonna be just fine.

As Ichigo was helping Grimmjow clean up the dishes (while making out. What? It's multitasking) the front door opened and slammed.

"Yo, old man! Yer not gonna believe this! Me and Di wanna wait 'til we're a lil' older, cuz, ya know, we wanna be mature about our relationship and stuff, but he lemme stick my fingers up his butt, and he _totally_ loved it!" Jinta hollered, wandering into the kitchen, a backpack on his shoulder.

His face immediately turned as red as his hair as he noticed his father (who was practically naked) watching him while his math teacher blushed from on top of the counter, his legs locked around his (suddenly annoyed-looking) father.

"Oh, fergot he was here," Jinta said, looking away from them and clearing his throat, "Uh, I'll just be in my room. Don't mind me."

"U-uh Jinta, wait! It's not what it looks like!" Ichigo cried, watching as Jinta practically sprinted away.

"Wait! Come back! I wanna hear the rest of the story!" Grimmjow called, his voice echoing off of the large walls, "I'm proud of ya, kid!"

"Grimmjow!" Ichigo scolded, slapping his shoulders with his hands, trying to squirm out of Grimmjow's grasp, "He's already seen enough! Aren't you even a little bit embarrassed? He's probably freaking out in his room right now!"

Grimmjow shrugged, "What? My boy's becomin' a man, Ichigo. Shouldn't I revel in the joy of that?"

"You're a fucking pervert. He's not even fourteen yet! And you shouldn't be making out with me in your kitchen, you're barely dressed, and – stop rubbing my crotch!" Ichigo floundered, wondering how he could possibly be infatuated with this crazy-ass devil dad.

"Aw, come on, sensei, relax," Grimmjow said, kissing him quickly on the mouth, "Yer with me now. He's gonna have 'ta get used to it."

Ichigo sighed heavily, wrapping his arms around Grimmjow's shoulders, forehead resting on Grimmjow's, "You sure he's okay with this?"

"He's my kid, Ichi, not my dad. Even if he wasn't okay with it, which he is, I wouldn't let you leave."

Ichigo smiled at that, too fucking happy to do anything but continue to kiss his new…boyfriend? Lover? Soul mate?

Grimmjow broke the kiss, rubbing Ichigo's sides, "So, will you do me the honor of going out with me?"

"I'll have to think about it."

Grimmjow scowled, which made Ichigo laugh almost hysterically.

So _that's_ where Jinta got his scowl.

* * *

**-THE END-**

* * *

**HOORAY! I LOVED WRITING THIS. YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW MUCH FUN I HAD. SERIOUSLY, THESE RELATIONSHIPS WERE SO EASY TO WRITE, THEY JUST CAME OUT OF NOWHERE. I'M SUDDENLY OBSESSED WITH THE IDEA OF URAHARA AND KENPACHI. HOLY CRACK, IT'S JUST…I SERIOUSLY FELL IN LOVE WRITING THEM.**

**Which is why I decided to do a short epilogue of all our lovely gay couples a few years in the future. I just couldn't leave these boys alone, so it should be out soon. –TPP**

Extra Tidbits If You Were Curious About Random Stuff:

_*p.s: I listen to pretty much everything, but I tend to stay away from pop, but seriously, I can't NOT belt Teenage Dream at the tops of my lungs when it comes on the radio: I didn't think even Grimmjow would be able to pass up that secret guilty pleasure. As for the Spice Girls, it came on when I was writing that scene (shuffle on my ipod for the win). And…uh…I think that's it. I wanted to make Gin really playful in this fic for some reason: in canon, he didn't really get a chance to show how goofy he can be, cuz he was too busy trying to play evil. Eh, well, I'd like to think this is more his personality when he's allowed to relax. (I, for one, thought it was super adorable). And…like I said, I'm in love with the idea of Urahara and Kenpachi. I think they're my OTP besides GrimmIchi now: I honestly believe their personalities are perfect for each other: eccentric genius meets violent/deadly/wisdom dude (I've watched all of Kenpachi's fights and read through them several times, and he ALWAYS has more than a few kernels of wisdom during, or after, a fight. I don't know why I have to defend him so much: he's extremely intelligent in his simplicity). I don't care what you guys think! I'm not ashamed! You can't stop their love!_

_*I said that 'calendar' thing to a girl I had a mad-bad crush on. She totally dug it, so I thought I'd throw it in here. Seriously: being upfront and honest with idiotic declarations (and 1 minute of courage) usually gets you farther then stalking or "waiting out for the perfect moment to declare your feelings". Unfortunately, we didn't work out, but it's a good memory. Our relationship was a lot like that, the interactions (without the man-sex, of course. __We're girls. HAHAHA! __She was super smart in math, still studies it, and I'm retarded in math and focused on art in high school, so maybe this is a little more personal then I actually intended.)_

**~Oh yeah, one more thing…HAPPY BIRTHDAY RACEY! I HOPE YOU ENJOYED THIS BUNDLE OF CRACK! LOVE~Kill**


End file.
